


Ouroboros

by spycaptain



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 02:18:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11681967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spycaptain/pseuds/spycaptain
Summary: There's something so fucking hot about being wanted.NSFW drabbles for Anko. This is part of my noble quest to have Anko smut in the tags that isn't centered around rape or her fucking Orochimaru. We've got some loving, consensual relationships up in this bitch. You've been warned. Each chapter is tagged with the verse name (because these are RP ships) and the ship, so you can skip what you don't want to read.





	1. Wanderlust - Sasuke / Anko

"Does this feel good?"

When did he get such an ego? She almost misses the nervous man from a few days before, the one who touched her carefully and with reverence, hands only going where she gave them permission to go. Anko was in control then.

Now that control is lost. Her hands grip the sheets and she closes her eyes, unwilling to see the smug look on his face.

His fingers trace along the outside of her sex, spreading her slick up to her clit and back down again. She whimpers when he gets too close, back arching, hips pressing forward. She wants more. She wants what he was just giving her, but she doesn’t want it to stop this time. It’s been so long since she felt anything like this, and she’s finally remembering how greedy she can be when she finds something she likes.

“Just– _fuck_ –” She’s so bad with words when flustered. Anko opens her eyes again to watch him, biting her lip when he slides two fingers inside her, and when the thumb of his other hand rests tightly on her most sensitive spot. There’s the wet sound as he fucks her and she watches, mesmerized.

She almost forgets about his thumb, only to be reminded of it suddenly when he presses down again. Makes a circle against her clit that has her squirming in the sheets.

Anko falls back against the pillow. She doesn’t want this to stop. She’s so ashamed of her body now for betraying her, for giving in to easily and deciding on its own to seek what it wants. She’s rolling her hips against his fingers, harder, harder, unsure if he’s the one fucking her or if she’s taken back control to get herself off on his fingers. She’s not even sure if she cares anymore.

She just wants release. 

“Does it?”

She finally looks back up at him when he repeats the question. 

“Yes,” Anko nods, letting out a whine as the pressure builds and she feels herself getting close. She can’t take her eyes off of him now, watching him as he brings her to the edge, her lips parted, words of encouragement spilling out.

“Yes, _yes_ , I’m close, just—” She’s desperate now. “Keep going—don’t— _don’t stop—_ ”

She feels her legs tremble with the force of her orgasm as it takes her. Her head feels both light and empty, suddenly separate from her body as she rides out the wave of her release. Everything about her feels so good, and he… 

She watches dumbly as Sasuke removes his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth for a taste. She’s sure he knows what he’s doing to her – his gaze never falters from hers as he licks his fingers, the smirk he has when he leans over her is almost a leer.

Anko takes his mouth in a kiss before he can say anything. Yes, that felt good, and yes, she can’t wait to do it again. He settles down on top of her, and she feels his cock press between her legs.  

She’s not going to have to wait very long.


	2. Shippuden - Iruka / Anko

Iruka is a little shy with her. Unusual, considering she’s known him since she was three, but she can’t say it’s unexpected. He’s always been closed off around her with some things. His sexuality has always been one of them.

Anko wondered how she was going to step into that role. How she was going to go from making him blush to making him moan, what tricks she could come up with to leave Iruka hard and stupid, that cute little head of his addled enough that he that he’d actually tell her what it is he wants.

It wasn’t all that hard. He is her best friend, after all, and also tragically predictable.

She gets a thrill the first time she is on her knees in front of him. Loves the look on his face when she takes his cock in her hand, touching him like this for the first time, somehow confident despite the fact that he’s her first for everything. It’s Iruka. She’ll learn for him, because she gets back just as much as she gives when he is involved, and she can’t wait to see the mess she makes of him.

It doesn’t take her long to tease him until he breaks. Her tongue running the length of his cock, warm mouth teasing his sensitive head, and a look she knows he both hates and loves on her. That look she always gets when she’s dangling something he wants just out of reach. This time it’s more than just a kiss that she’s denying him - it’s the feel of him deep inside her mouth, the flutter of her tongue on his cock, the sound of her moan as his hand holds her head in place and he fucks her.

Once she gets that out of him, the confessions spill out, the way he’s thought of her and the things he wants to do to her. His fingers trail through her hair as he tells her, holding her head in place where he likes it best.

“You can cum in my mouth,” she says, after her mouth leaving his cock with a graceless pop, one hand up to her lips to wipe away the spit and taste of precum.

Anko scoots back on her knees, looking up. “But I want to watch you get yourself there.”

She thinks he’s going to backtrack and take away his request, but she’s wrong, and the sight of his hand on his own cock is one she finds she enjoys. He’s impatient and fast, shameless now that he’s no longer hiding. There are long, broad strokes, then short fast ones as Anko watches, waiting untils she hears the telling quickening of his breath before she opens wide.

“Anko, I want – haaa – ”

His hips jerk forward as he finishes into her open mouth.


	3. Arranged Marriage - Yashamaru / Anko

“See?” She says, running one hand up his stomach and chest, to his cheek where she lets it rest. Anko leans closer for a kiss, her lips barely brushing against his, her eyes watching for any reaction, any sign of panic or any hint that she should stop this.

“It’s easy. Can I keep going?”

Yasha looks… _disheveled_. That’s the best way to describe it. Overwhelmed is another. Face flushed and chest heaving, his lips swollen with kisses she’s given him, she knows what his heart must feel like in his chest. Loud and fierce and impossibly fast after all the things she’s done to him, said to him, all the words she’s let drip from her lips like honey just to get this far.

But when he looks at her like that, she thinks all her waiting was worth it.

Anko lowers herself, lips parted in anticipation of him inside her, a heavy sigh as she feels her stretch around him. She has nothing to compare him to - no other man, just books and silly fantasies she’s read online - and he is absolutely perfect, her nervous mess of a husband, gripping her hips tightly because he’s afraid of hurting her.

This is just the beginning and she wants more.

“Yasha?” She can hear it in her own voice: breathlessness, an eagerness to move forward, to feel him and know him like this, to touch him and kiss him and drown herself in all the sounds she’ll pull from his mouth. “I need a yes.”

He blinks at her. She knows he’s been somewhere else. Lost in her, and in his own anxieties, his fears of inadequacy, or worse, of hurting her. He has such an obsession with these things that she worries he misses the point: that this is something she wants for them. Not sex, but intimacy, and a future together that they’ve created.

She almost misses it, the change in his frame when he decides this is what he wants. Yashamaru's hands are on her hips, moving her towards him, bringing her lower, with a _yes_ he grants her when he’s fully inside her, their hips together, closer than they’ve been before with a rush of pain and excitement at the end.

She loves him like this. She loves him always, but these are the moments she will cherish, when he’s open and vulnerable and she knows this is a part of him that is just for her. Anko leans forward for another kiss, groaning when the angle is just right. She finds heat and pleasure in spot she’s never felt before.

She brings her hands to his hair, fingers tangling in familiar blonde streaks, her mouth open and heavy against his. She’s so lost in him she almost forgets what to do (and she’s researched this – Mitarashi Anko never takes on a task unprepared, and she’s had years to ready herself for this moment.) It’s Yasha that brings her back, his hips moving up to meet hers, an unsteady rhythm until he hits that sweet spot and she’s making sounds she didn’t know she could make.

They’re for him. Always for him. Nevermind that she didn’t want him at first, that as a child she thought he wouldn’t be the man she wanted -- now she knows for certain that the opposite is true. Yashamaru is the best thing to happen to her. He’s sweet smiles and laughter, late night conversations while they work on projects together, and he’s this, god, now he’s thick and inside her and she’s forgotten that this was supposed to be about him, not her. Except he’s the only thing she can think about, his mouth and his tongue and the familiar taste of the life they have together. Busy mornings and shopping for fruits on the weekends and cleaning the kitchen and a hundred thousand mundane things that they've made.

Anko rolls her hips against his, faster, ignoring her own ache for his own. She knows what's next b the pace of his breath, and his heartbeat against hers. The building agony of almost that has her flushed red, senseless, his name pouring past her lips until he seizes and stops, the heavy gasps of his orgasm signaling that they’re done for now.

But they did it.

“I love you,” Anko whispers, and kisses the top of his head. She likes this. She wants more if he’ll allow it, and she’ll give him everything he needs from her until he can kiss her like this again without shame.

She loves him, her amazing husband, and all his fears. He’s suddenly shy again, his head against her shoulder, his arms wrapping around her waist to keep her curled up beside him. Anko lets out a low hum as she gets comfortable.


	4. Kumo - Killer B / Anko

B’s taking his sweet time with her. Anko feels his hands run up her thighs and to her ass, squeezing tightly before he spreads her apart for him to see.

She should feel dirty. Exposed. She would have if it was anyone else, if this kind of encounter hadn’t been built on all the others before it, where he took care of her and walked her through her anxieties before he fucked her senseless.

But there’s something so fucking hot about being wanted. Feeling the head of his cock as it presses against her entrance and enjoying his low groan as he pushes himself in. Slow, because the first time always is, until he’s fully inside her, his hands tightly holding her hips.

_F-fuck._

Anko lets out a slow breath. Easy, easy. They know how to be patient in order to make this work. She rolls her hips against him, sliding up the length of his cock and down again, stretching herself, making sure she’s ready for him and the pace he wants to keep when he fucks her.

He’s fully inside her again when she stops, cheeks pressed against the sheets. This will work.  She nods up at him; she’s ready.

His hand runs down her back and to her hair where he makes a fist, jerking her up.

“B,” she says, already aching. “Fuck me.”


	5. Haptephilia - Sai / Anko

Sai’s fingers are long, skinny. Calloused on the tips and sharp at the knuckles, but somehow perfect when they are inside her. One hand holds her leg open, spreading her out in front of him, while the other works against her sex. His thumb brushes over her clit, teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves, and Anko arches back.

This isn’t the first time he’s done this to her. No, what they have has been going on for awhile now – quiet at first, just the two of them exploring, but now it’s noisy. She lets herself enjoy what he’s doing to her. She sheds away the fear in favor of better sensations. She gives in.

Scrambles to find something to grip onto as he works harder - fingers deeper, faster, until her hips are rising up to meet him, desperate for a high only he can bring.


	6. Dream A Little Dream of Me - Obito / Anko

Obito likes her bent over, ass in the air, cheek pressed against the mattress. He likes being able to watch her and hear her, one hand on her neck and holding her in place as he brings her to another blissful end. His other hand is coated and slick between her legs.

He doesn’t like it when she can see him.

Some days it’s obvious. He won’t give her a chance to turn around and kiss him. Instead he does his best work from behind her, whispering against her neck as his hand parts her legs, fingers slipping in between familiar heat until she’s wet enough to fuck. Anko lets him have his way then, taking him in any way he’ll let her, frantic against his skin until they both find release.

Those days aren’t loving days. Those are angry days, when self pity gets the best of them, when they want to experience something other than the boring incline of recovery. She lets him humor his ugly side then. He turns her away so he can feel better. They use each other because they trust each other, and there’s something comforting about that in the end.

Today is different. Anko lands on her stomach on the bed and rolls over, pulling him down on top of her before he has a chance to protest. He makes a face as he dips down to kiss her, lining himself up with her entrance in a way she knows is meant to tease her. It doesn’t work.

“I want to see you,” Anko says, finger bopping him on the nose. He’s cute, fucked up face and all, and she misses back when they first started out. He let her watch him then. She could enjoy the stutter of his breath and the twitch of his lips right as he came, and imagine all the ways she could make him go again.

Obito grumbles, flopped down on top of her, his head buried against her neck in protest. She pretends not to know what this is really about. Anko is more than willing to do all the work - she wiggles herself into the position she wants, legs up and nearly over his shoulder while he sheepishly looks away. She’s going ahead with her request despite his silent protest. He’s going to fuck her, he’s going to fuck her good, and he’s going to let her watch. The insecure back of his brain can go fuck itself.

“I like you,” she reminds him, because love can be a heavy word. She waits a moment for him to give her what she wants and when all she gets is the anxious twitch of his cock, she smacks him upside the head.

“Oi, get to work. I’m done waiting here.”


	7. Modern Mythology - Yashamaru / Anko

Oh, she’s missed him - the taste of salt and sweat on her tongue and the perfect angle of his hips. He’s so shy, even now when it’s just the two of them, even when the delights she takes from him are ones he’s freely given her before.

Apollo, Apollo, Apollo. His name is so foreign on her tongue, but it rushes through to her fingers and toes like a power that has always been hers to command. Years ago when she lied to Amaterasu, then in Greece when he took her away, and now, finally, on her knees in front of him, in a state so submissive but somehow so in control.

_ Apollo. _

She has a husband back home waiting for her. A child who cries without it’s mother. But she also has him, eager, face flushed and lips parted, a god she has somehow made a man in front of her. Again and again, visits that are always start to innocent, yet always end just like this.

“Just this once,” she says, her lips finding a sweet spot, hot breath against soft skin. She knows just how to convince him. “I remember how they would worship you back in Greece. Let me worship you in my own way now.”


	8. Samurai - Shisui / Anko

There’s a small, defiant part of her that thinks maybe she shouldn’t be like this. That she shouldn’t have fallen so easily into the idea of loving her husband. She only fought for a year (even if some girls fight for less) before giving in. Before she let him have her, her mouth, her breasts, her sex, the whole expanse of her body as he took her, as he fucked her sore and raw.

Kuri says that’s how it is for virgins. It hurts the first time. Sometimes the second and third time, too, but you get used to it. You try until you find a way that fits, because once it _works_ , it’s something just for the two of you.

… Her sister might be something of a romantic. Anko still isn’t sure if that’s the kind of person she wants to be.

But she likes him. She does. She likes how she feels on top of him, legs spread to fit him between her hips, his cock thick inside her. It stretches still, and hurts if they aren’t careful, but when she rolls her hips just right and he makes the best sort of sound - a groan and he thrusts back up inside her, deeper, his hands on her hips to keep her in perfect place. That’s the moment she treasures most.

She likes him more when he bends her over. When he’s gentle right before he’s not, whispering in her ear the words she needs to say to make him stop. She never says them. Instead she grips tighter, bites her lip harder, lets him take, take, take until he is satisfied. That’s when she is satisfied as well, when he’s stretched out beside her, when his kisses are lazy and soft, when she can tell for certain that he loves her.

She always thought that to be like this would be degrading. On her knees, his hands on her head, her mouth open as he fucks it. Shisui can be hard, lost in the sensations, giving up gentleness for the relief he seeks. But somehow this is better. Even as her eyes water and she fights the urge to gag, there’s satisfaction when she feels the pulse of his cock, the warning right before he comes, and the heat that coats her throat when he finishes. She always swallows him down.

There’s embarrassment when she admits this to Kuri. Her sister is more traditional in her approaches. Her husband does not touch Kuri like Shisui touches Anko. But Kuri doesn’t feel what Anko feels - she doesn’t understand why her sister would want these things. Anko doesn’t understand either, and there’s a bright red blush across her neck as she leaves the conversation.

She shouldn’t have opened her mouth. She shouldn’t have confessed the kind of things they do. It’s different. A deviation. Something she thought would have been so common to everyone else, suddenly seems like a secret she didn’t know she should have kept.

But then that means her loving Shisui is a secret that should be kept.

And she does love him. She does, finally. He’s kind to her. He hurts her, but in the ways she asks him to, and he’s never left her feeling empty after. Never left her wanting when it was a need he could fill. In anything. In their home, in their bed, in the quiet between them, he has always given her what he could.

She tells him the night he returns back from a mission. He’s been gone for months, and like always, they’re playing a game of patience. How long can they wait until they give in?

“I love you,” Anko tells Shisui, pulling him down on top of her. Her hips are still lined with his and he enters her at the same moment; her confession ends in a gasp, with his name on her tongue. 


End file.
